


The colour of your voice

by lotspot



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Blind Grantaire, But also adorable, Enjolras somehow has no idea R is blind, Getting Together, Misunderstandings, NB Grantaire, Non-Binary Grantaire, R sees people's voices as colours, Synaesthesia, Trans Enjolras, agender joly, and its fucking dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-02 06:28:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10211615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotspot/pseuds/lotspot
Summary: Grantaire has been blind since they were 5. The only thing they can see are the colours in their mind when people speak.Enjolras knows he's stupidly attractive and is really sick of people only liking him for his looksGrantaire is shocked by the intensity of Enjolras' colours.Enjolras has somehow managed to miss that R is blind and thinks R's crush is superficial and shallow.The wildest misunderstanding ensues.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Trans Enjolras  
> NB Grantaire  
> Agender Joly
> 
> I don't know much about synaesthesia and blindness but I just really love this HC and I have always had very strong opinions on the colours I associate with characters.

Grantaire had been blind since they were 5. It had never really bothered them. They don’t remember the accident and they don’t really remember the world before. They just get on with their life. Their brain must remember some things though as their entire synaesthesia was based around colour. They often loved to joke that they are a weird paradoxical soul and it just adds to the mess that is their life.

When anyone asked for their gender nowadays they joke that they can’t see the gender binary so as far as they are concerned it doesn’t exist.

Ultimately despite everything Grantaire treated their life completely as a joke. If they couldn’t laugh about their situation then what _could_ they do. Everything could and would be laughed about. Except Enjolras. Enjolras was the exception to everything. Grantaire had never seen or felt colours so strongly as when they first heard Enjolras speak. If they were being completely honest they had no reason to be at that meeting other than both Joly and Bossuet were going but, boy, did they have a reason to come back. Just listening to the conversations from the other people in the room there were colours everywhere. It was a bit overwhelming if they were being honest but once Joly and Bossuet introduced them and they could put voices to people it was a lot easier.

Jehan was a warm bright orange.

Bahorel was a solid purple with hints of red.

Feuilly was maroon and yellow.

Combeferre was a deep blue that made Grantaire feel completely at peace.

Courfeyrac was yellow and green and pink.

Marius was a light beige and orange

Cosette was a wild collage of every colour of pink.

They made their rounds and settled down in a chair next to Joly and Bossuet. Everyone seemed to be waiting for something. There was a tension in the air but it was expectant, not anxious so Grantaire didn’t worry about it.

“Sorry I’m late let’s get started shall we?”

Grantaire was bowled over by the brightness of the red that appeared behind their eyes when the new person started talking.

Joly leaned over. “That’s Enjolras by the way. He tends to lead the meetings.”

Grantaire didn’t answer. They were just waiting for Enjolras to speak again.

And, oh man, did he speak again.

The more Enjolras spoke the more colours started mixing in with the red. Grantaire was seeing reds and yellows and golds and basically it looked like their brain was on fire. Grantaire felt completely drawn in to Enjolras’ voice and it scared them.

The meeting ended.

Grantaire gripped Joly’s arm. “Joly do I have any gold paint?”

“Um I don’t think so?”

“Ok well we need to go past the art store on the way home then.”

Joly put Grantaire’s arm through their own and led them out of the café.

 

Enjolras was aware of his looks. He knew the effect they had on people. He hated it so much. He wanted people to be attracted to his ideals not to his dumb face. Even before transitioning he was conventionally attractive. Now his softer feminine looks were seen as "angelic" and had only escalated the situation.

When he walked into the meeting late and the new person was just staring at him with their mouth hanging open he deflated. When Bossuet had texted him that they would be bringing a friend along he had been hoping that it would be someone who was interested in the cause and not just Enjolras’ face. It had been a long shot. The new person looked at him with not quite the hungry eyes that he was used to but it was obvious what had happened the minute he walked through the door. Distant gaze, dopey smile. Yep. He didn’t have time for this. He could feel his shoulders tense under their gaze but he brushed it off and started the meeting. He didn’t even bother to introduce himself. What was the point in leading them on?

The new person stared at him the entire way through the meeting but they didn’t appear to be listening. At least, they didn’t seem to be at all focused. Enjolras bristled. They left at the end before Enjolras could say anything. He watched the way they left arm in arm with Joly and Bossuet. He realised he couldn’t just tell them to stop coming if they were that close to Joly and Bossuet. Enjolras would just have to learn to live with it. He was getting good at that anyways.

He sighed and threw his coat on. Combeferre handed him his bag. “You didn’t ever get round to introducing yourself to Grantaire.”

Enjolras hummed. “So their name is Grantaire”. Enjolras was careful not to assume Grantaire’s gender.

“Yeah they’ve been friends with Joly and Bossuet for years. I don’t know if they’ll be coming back though. Joly said this isn’t their usual kind of thing. But who knows. Perhaps your words swayed them.”

“They didn’t seem particularly focused on my _words”_ Enjolras muttered.

“What else would they have been focusing on Enjolras?”

Enjolras frowned and glared Combeferre. “Never mind. Whatever. Let’s go.”

Combeferre shrugged and they left.

 

Grantaire was sat on the floor of their studio. They had a line of paint pots in front of them and a blank canvas.

“A dark red” Joly led R’s hand to the dark red. Grantaire had headphones in. They had recorded the last couple of minutes of Enjolras’ speech. It wasn’t quite the same as hearing the real thing, live, in front of them, but it was close enough. Joly continued to lead their hand to the paints. When Grantaire decided they were satisfied. They put their brush down.

“Oh R, honey.” Joly spoke in a whisper.

“What is it? Is it bad? Fuck Joly don’t leave me hanging like this dude.”

Joly laughed uneasily. “Oh no. It’s not that… it’s beautiful R but… whose voice is this?”

Grantaire blushed. If it looked like they thought it did then they really had shown their hand. “Enjolras.”

Joly hummed. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Grantaire shifted uncomfortably. “What is there to talk about?”

“Oh I don’t know maybe the fact that there is what looks like a human heart on fire drawn on the middle of that canvas.”

Grantaire jumped at the sound of Bossuet’s voice.

“Sorry should have warned you I was here. I brought you tea.” Bossuet placed the cup of tea on the floor in front of them and led their hands to it.

“Is that what it looks like?”

There was a tension in the room before Joly whispered “yeah.”

Grantaire nodded. “Ok cool. Then there is nothing to discuss. You already know.”

Joly slowly closed their hand around Grantaire’s. “I’m gonna hug you now if that’s ok.”

Grantaire nodded violently and felt Joly wrap their arms around their shoulders.

“Hey! Me too!” Grantaire laughed as Bossuet flung his arms around the two of them.

When Bossuet pulled away he picked up the abandoned canvas. “Ok but R seriously this is incredible. I think this is honestly my favourite work you’ve ever produced, and I am including your painting of my own voice in that so. Can we put it up in the living room?”

Grantaire weighed up the chances of Enjolras ever coming to their flat and decided they were too insignificant to even consider.

“Yeah sure if you think it’s that good whatever sure.”

 

Grantaire was at the next meeting. And the one after that. And the one after that. Enjolras was over the initial shock of the first experience he decided it was best to just ignore Grantaire.

Easier said than done.

After a couple of meetings of just staring and silence Grantaire seemed to loosen up. Enjolras found himself staring back at Grantaire more than he would like to mention. There was something comforting about the way Grantaire would tell stories to their friends; low voice and wild hand gestures punctuated by gravely laughter. Enjolras noticed that Grantaire would trace the lines in the table absent mindedly while listening to others. The way they listened to other people was beautiful. They would close their eyes and tilt their head back slightly and it looked like they weren’t listening at all but in reality they would be able to quote chunks of Jehan’s poetry back to them after only listening once. There was a tiny spark of hope that maybe Grantaire really _was_ listening to his voice when he spoke but Enjolras crushed that before he allowed it to get out of hand.

 

“Why even fight for the arts Enjolras? There are people starving. You can’t feed them paint.”

Enjolras dropped his head onto the desk and groaned.

Joly grabbed Grantaire’s arm. “What are you doing?” they hissed, “you’re an artist for god’s sake.”

Grantaire smirked. “Do you know how amazing his colours are when he’s angry?”

Joly made a frustrated sound as Bossuet burst into laughter.

“You absolute fuck R” he choked out between laughs.

Suddenly Enjolras’ voice was back and Grantaire forgot everything else.

“Grantaire I don’t believe for a second that there is not a single piece of art up in your house. I don’t believe that. If I go to your flat and there is not a single piece of art I will back down and hand this one to you.”

Grantaire froze. Joly and Bossuet froze. Actually, the entire room froze. Grantaire swore they felt the room actually get colder.

They swallowed. “Are you serious?”

They could hear Enjolras picking up his coat and keys and they knew he was. Joly grabbed their coat and Grantaire heard them mutter “Not in my flat. Not today.” They put Grantaire’s arm through theirs and practically dragged them out. Grantaire assumed Enjolras had steamed on ahead and they were lagging somewhat.

They only lived five minutes from the Musain so they were home in no time. Joly unlocked the door and let Enjolras in. Grantaire guiltily followed him in. Exactly how were they going to explain this? They stood in the door and waited for Enjolras’ self-satisfied ‘I told you so’.

It didn’t come.

“Grantaire what the hell?”

“What?”

“This painting. It’s signed ‘R’.”

Grantaire shifted uncomfortably. They had no idea if Joly was still in the room but if they were, they were staying very silent.

“Um yeah” they chuckled, “I guess you win, huh?”

“I don’t care. This is amazing! Why… why would you argue against the arts if you’re a painter?”

Grantaire sighed. “Do you know what it is like to be in your attentions? I can feel your gaze in my soul. I would argue in favour of a nuclear apocalypse if it meant you would talk to me.”

Enjolras made a frustrated noise that confused Grantaire but they let it slide.

“Really? Is this about your dumb crush on me?”

Grantaire blushed and frowned. All their defences went up at once.

“Well there is no need to be such a fucking dick about it. I’m sorry I guess.”

“You don’t actually like me though. There is a lot more to me than blond hair and high cheekbones, you know.” There was an ice blue edge to Enjolras’ voice now that surprised Grantaire. They hadn’t seen that colour in his voice before, not even in their most vicious arguments.

“Enjolras –“

“And I understand now it makes so much sense. You’re an artist so of course you are in it for the aesthetic. God why are people so shallow.” Enjolras sounded like he was about to start crying. Joly had clearly left the room. They would not have allowed this conversation to continue.

“Enjolras stop.”

Enjolras did.

“Enjolras. I’m blind.”

“What?” Enjolras’ voice was so small Grantaire barely heard it.

“Enjolras, I’m blind. A can’t see anything. Since I was five I haven’t been able to see anything.”

Enjolras let out a hysterical laugh. “What the hell? What the _fuck_? Why did no one tell me? How did I not know?”

Grantaire was in a complete state of shock.

“I assumed someone had told you? Everyone knows. I’m blind my dude. I’ve never seen your face. My crush on you has absolutely negative 100% to do with your looks. That I can promise you.”

“Ok wait explain. I’ve heard you talk to Jehan about colours for like half an hour. How do you know?”

“Oh my god Enjolras. No offence but do you know literally _anything about me_? I have synaesthesia. Basically I see colours when people speak. Joly helps me paint them.”

Enjolras seemed to silently mull this over. At least that’s what Grantaire hoped what was happening.

“So… Whose voice is this?”

“If you are currently pointing at a painting I am going to kick your ass.”

Enjolras let out an embarrassed chuckle. “Sorry. It’s red and gold and orange”

“Ah. Ah yeah that’s, um, that’s you.”

Grantaire looked at the ground.

“Talk me through it.”

Grantaire stuttered but managed to compose themselves. “Um. Well. Red is your base colour I guess. But when you get passionate you get yellows and oranges and golds and it basically looks like the whole world is on fire. And when you’re angry everything gets darker and more intense. It’s really…” Grantaire became aware that Enjolras was standing really close to them. They could feel his breath on their skin. “Beautiful. You’re beautiful Enjolras.” The words were breathed like a prayer.

Enjolras spoke quietly. “I don’t want to startle you but I’m going to kiss you now.”

Grantaire didn’t even get to nod properly before Enjolras connected their lips.

Grantaire raised their hands and cupped Enjolras’ face in their hands. When Enjolras finally pulled away Grantaire leaned their forehead against his.

“You are right though. You do have great cheekbones.”

Enjolras threw his head back and laughed. Grantaire’s mind exploded in a flurry of red and gold. They assumed this must be what everyone meant when they described fireworks.

Enjolras kissed them quickly on the lips again.

“Alright kids I hope you’re not dead – oh.”

Grantaire laughed as they heard Joly shuffle back into the room.

“Dude why did you never tell Enjolras I was blind?”

“ _Enjolras didn’t know you were blind?”_

“No one told me!”

Joly burst out laughing. “Oh my god that is so fucking hilarious. I’m sorry I don’t know how that happened but this is the funniest thing that has ever happened to me oh my god, Enjolras, I love you so much.”

“Shut up Joly you are supposed to be my friend.”

The ice blue had long since faded from Enjolras’ voice.

“Alright well in that case you should both know that Courfeyrac has invited himself and subsequently everyone else over to check that you are not dead.”

“Oh fantastic.”

Grantaire smiled and rolled their eyes. They found Enjolras’ hand and laced their fingers through his.

“Ok well you are absolutely never living this down so I hope you are ready to be thoroughly embarrassed for the rest of the night. Feel free to consume any alcohol you find in our kitchen.”

Enjolras laughed.

**Author's Note:**

> I thought I'd mention the colours i imagine for the unmentioned Amis. They are not mentioned bc Grantaire has already met them.  
> Joly - pastel blue  
> Bossuet - forest green with tones of a dark yellow  
> Musichetta - Deep purple but when she laughs there are sparks of green  
> Eponine - navy blue and bright red
> 
> find me on tumblr @ probably-pride-related
> 
> xxxx


End file.
